


There's a Lotta Love in My Troubles

by GaHoolianGirl



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Alcohol, And we never see Forsyth's POV nor is there a confession, Bc Python can swear off sentiment all he likes but he's been whipped for Forsyth for years, First Love, However in my heart they are always in love so you can assume, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Python is not aware of that tho, Python nurses a single ale bc he's far too busy whining, Relationship Discussions, The OC is a friendly bartender who calls Python's pining tf out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24793954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: "Came to drown yourself in alcohol to forget about your love troubles again, boy?"The barkeep's grin was full of shit, and Python kind of wanted to kick his teeth in. Maybe that was harsh, especially coming from a "rolling with the punches" guy like him, but he'd had a rough day."Stuff it, 'ya old geezer..." he grumbled, walking up to the bar with several silvers in hand, slamming them down on the counter, "There's no 'love' in my troubles."Laughing, the tavern owner, known to all in the area simply as Sid, shook his head and poured out a tankard for his irritable regular,  "Really now? I don't know many folk who would come in here to complain about their best buddy in the way you do if that's all they were, lad."
Relationships: Fols | Forsyth/Python
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	There's a Lotta Love in My Troubles

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I am weak for Python actually being mega in love with Forsyth for ages and actually being kind of a big baby about it lol. This takes place pre-canon, sometime during the time they were soldiers for the local lord. So I'd play them like 20 at the youngest, 23 at the oldest, don't remember exactly how long they did that for. Enjoy!
> 
> P.S I know the tag says ale, he drinks mead in this, didn't feel like editing either to make it fit.

"Came to drown yourself in alcohol to forget about your love troubles again, boy?"

The barkeep's grin was full of shit, and Python kind of wanted to kick his teeth in. Maybe that was harsh, especially coming from a "rolling with the punches" guy like him, but he'd had a rough day.

"Stuff it, 'ya old geezer..." he grumbled, walking up to the bar with several silvers in hand, slamming them down on the counter, "There's no 'love' in my troubles."

Laughing, the tavern owner, known to all in the area simply as Sid, shook his head and poured out a tankard for his irritable regular, "Really now? I don't know many folk who would come in here to complain about their _best buddy_ in the way you do if that's all they were, lad."

Python didn't sip his mead, instead just staring down at it, taking in his amber, shimmering reflection. The look on his face was far from flattering.

"I jus' don't get him," he began, grinding his teeth. Most patrons would have taken their drink and gone to find a seat by now- patrons without love troubles, that is, "He's always been this way. Lookin' towards the future and all that crap. Striving for dreams that ain't coming true, when he's got-"

"What does he 'got', my boy?" Sid asked patiently as he poured out a few drinks for some other customers (who were all used to this situation by now).

"He's _got,_ " sighing, knowing he was defeated in trying to hide his true motives by this point, "A perfectly fine life in front of him. Sure, our boss is a noble dipshit with a head fulla' feathers-"

Perhaps he shouldn't have spoken ill of the region's ruling lord, but public opinion on the man was fairly unanimous.

"-and we make peanuts, but it's enough to get by. We've got food, drink, a place to go home 'ta. What else does a man need?"

"Dreams don't fill the belly, that's for certain."

"You get it!" Python exclaimed, finally knocking back a sizable gulp of his drink. However, when he pulled the tankard away from his face, all he saw was a knowing smile on Sid's face that really made him want to shoot several arrows into something, preferably the man's chest.

"But they do feed yer spirit and soul. It's important to nourish all the Mother's gifts."

Python scowled, taking another, much more moderate sip, "You sound just like that old batty priestess..."

"You don't hafta agree with me lad, but you do have to see it from Forsyth's side of things. Just like you need a hearty meal, he needs a hearty dream to keep him going."

Sighing, Python pushed the half empty tankard away from him, leaning forward to rest his head on folded arms. Anyone who had only just arrived would assume he's already drunk, "Whatever."

Sid's smile grew wider and even more knowing, "Methinks that yer real issue is that he's off chasing some dream when he's got you right in front of him."

Generally speaking, Python did not blush. He wasn't easy to embarrass, and had little to be embarrassed about. Maybe it was a mix of the alcohol (he barely had any) and the high strung emotions he already had when he walked in (of which he did have plenty), but right now he lit up like a flame.

"That's a load of bull!!"

"Is it? There's nothing I've seen that can get you worked up like that boy can. You'd both be a lot happier if ya' just came clean to him."

"Why would I do that?" Python groaned petulantly, "I'm just some pal from back home he drags around so he can feel good at transforming a layabout. I'm just some sorta project to him."

Shaking his head fondly, Sid reached a hand out to pat Python's shoulder, "Now now, I think ya' ain't giving you or him enough credit. If he really didn't care about you, he'd just wait until ya' got home to lecture you, not pick you up like this."

"Wha-"

Lifting himself up on his elbows, Python turned to see Forsyth storming into the building, in the same confident, proud manner he always did. The look on his face spoke of fury, but it took someone who knew him well to know that it was fury born of concern.

Python's heart hurt. 

He turned his head away so the other couldn't see his red face.

"Python!" Forsyth stood behind him, and Python didn't need to see him to know his hands, his broad, rough hands, were placed on his hips, face in a pout, ready to chastise his longest time friend, "Just wandering off to get drunk again?"

"Whatsit to you?" he said under his breath, "Yer not my mother."

"No, I'm not, but I am concerned about your behavior! Drinking to get drunk this early in the day is unseemly! And-"

_And it's ill befitting a soldier! And it makes me look bad, and you'll get in the way of my dreams! And-_

"-I'm worried. It's not good for your health. You must look out for yourself, _please_."

He could see Sid trying hard not to laugh, but he readily ignored that to whip around to see Forsyth's furrowed brow, which screamed of concern. Maybe even _loving_ concern.

_Gods damn it all. I'm in love with this fool._

"Are you drunk?" his fine green friend asked, with his trademark mix of delicacy and admonishment, "Do you need help standing?"

In his stupid, sappy, love realization blinded haze, Python almost answered truthfully, but thankfully Sid had his back.

"Yeah, this fool kid has been in here for hours, this is his fifth drink. Get his ass out of here!"

"Old man-" Python opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut when he felt a strong, thick arm weave under his arms and around his back to hoist him up from his slouched position.

"Honestly, Python, what am I going to do with you!"

_Kiss me senseless, maybe?_

Ignoring that dangerous thought, he decided to play up the drunk act, leaning into Forsyth, head tucked into his shoulder, "Not drrrunk," he slurred in his best imitation of someone very drunk. It wasn't enough to fool Sid or any of the other patrons, but Forsyth wasn't the type to be around much drinking.

"Sure you aren't. Come now, let's get some food and water in you. I don't feel like lecturing you when it'll go in one ear out the other like this. You are safe from my wrath, for tonight," his voice was soft and fond in Python's ear, who had to suppress a shiver- but who also couldn't hide his wince when Forsyth practically shouted, "Thank you for looking out for him as always, Sid! I'll take this drunkard off your hands."

As he allowed himself to be dragged out of the tavern like a limp rag, Python did manage to sneak a glance back at Sid, who was mouthing, very comically and obviously, _CONFESS!_

If Python had his way, he would have told the old man to mind his damn business and shut up, but he had a hopeless drunk act to put on, so he settled for a sly middle finger held up behind his back.

Maybe he'd get more angry another day, but for now, he would focus on the warmth he felt being held close to Forsyth's side. 

That was much, much nicer.•

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought! I actually have another Python centric fic that's done that's I'll be publishing right after this, but Forsython is only alluded to there. Thanks for reading!


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